Regret is regret, but this simply wasn't Anson's year.
Without a doubt, Chicago and Adaptation were the true frontrunners. Not only at the Golden Globes, but they had already gained the upper hand in the Oscar race. Even before tonight's award ceremony, discussions revolved around Richard Gere and Nicolas Cage. The results were no surprise.
Catch If You Can was never in the running as an awards favorite.
As for Anson, being only twenty years old and carrying the "pretty-boy idol" label, getting a Golden Globe nomination for Best Actor in a Musical or Cody was already a victory.
The future is bright.
A hint of disappointnt crossed Anson's lips, and he didn't hide his emotions, openly showing it. But soon, the feeling dissipated, replaced by a deep breath and a wide smile. He stood up alongside Catherine and Caron, clapping for Richard Gere.
Clap. Clap! Clap!!
The entire room stood up, applause rising higher and higher. In the midst of whistles and cheers, the energy reached a new peak, sweeping across the venue like a storm.
In this mont, Anson no longer mattered; there was only one star of the night—Richard Gere.
It's hard to believe, but this was Richard Gere's third Golden Globe nomination, following An Officer and a Gentleman in 1983 and Pretty Woman in 1991. Yet, it was his first win ever.
After two decades, this longti heartthrob and charismatic actor finally received his well-deserved recognition.
So, this mont belonged to Richard alone.
The entire Hollywood Hilton was thunderous with applause.
Do awards matter?
Not that much, because the true test of great work is ti. Only ti can reveal whether a piece is truly great.
But, they do matter. They symbolize recognition from the industry and prove your existence.
More importantly, the industry cares. A trophy can bring more attention, allowing actors, directors, and writers to gain more creative freedom.
At this mont, the spotlight was fully on Richard Gere.
Anson also stood and offered his heartfelt applause.
Caron Diaz gazed at Richard Gere as he ascended the stage, her expression montarily distant. But she quickly collected herself, smiling again, politely clapping her hands.
She glanced to the side and noticed Anson looking at her.
She realized her expression must have been seen by Anson, but she didn't mind. As she stood clapping, she shrugged and rolled her eyes, a polite gesture that needed no words. Her expression and movents said it all:
"We're in the sa boat."
Throughout Caron Diaz's career, she had been trying to shake off the "pretty face" label, to prove she was more than just her looks.
Unfortunately, she had been fighting a losing battle.
In fact, forget about Oscar nominations—this year's Gangs of New York was only her second Golden Globe nomination, despite the award's openness to cody and musicals.
It's a pitifully low number.
So, did Caron care?
Of course she did. It's impossible not to feel the pressure.
The treatnt Richard Gere received tonight was what Caron dread of—recognition beyond her classic "pretty face" roles in films like There's Sothing About Mary and The Mask. She wanted to be acknowledged as the talented actress she was.
But control wasn't in their hands. What could they do?
Caron chose a positive attitude and laughed at herself.
She turned to Anson and made a funny face.
Both of them burst into laughter.
However, the feeling of looming disappointnt was never wrong.
First, Charlie Kaufman lost out on an award, an unexpected surprise but not entirely shocking.
Alexander Payne's About Schmidt, which he wrote and directed, beat Kaufman's mind-bending ta-narrative Adaptation, once again leaving Kaufman empty-handed.
Amidst the sea of applause, many eyes glanced toward Charlie.
Charlie remained expressionless, clapping chanically like a robot. But Anson noticed his glance toward Anthony not far away. That look clearly said:
"Can we leave now? I'm starving and I just don't care anymore."
Then, Caron failed to replicate Richard's miracle and missed out on her award as well.
The Best Supporting Actress trophy went to ryl Streep for Adaptation.
By 2003, ryl Streep had already set the record for 18 Oscar nominations, and she was one of the most respected and trusted actresses in the industry—perhaps even surpassing the legendary Katharine Hepburn in influence.
This year, ryl had been on fire again. The Hours was a critic's darling and had earned her an invite to the Berlin International Film Festival's main competition next month. anwhile, Adaptation was beloved by arthouse film fans. Her dual hits had garnered universal acclaim.
Caron generously clapped for ryl, even whistling.
Then she turned to Anson, "Phew, it's finally over."
With the tension gone, she relaxed, feeling so regret but also relief.
Unlike Anson, Caron was thirty years old. She knew how short Hollywood's shelf life was for actresses. If she didn't manage to transition soon, her future would only get tougher.
Behind Hollywood's glitz and glamor lay brutal realities.
Anson t her gaze, "People always say award ceremonies are just a bunch of Hollywood elites entertaining themselves. If that's the case, you could always throw your own party and celebrate yourself. I'm sure Jared wouldn't mind hosting a small pool party at your villa tonight."
There were plenty of parties happening tonight—maybe not a hundred, but definitely close to it.
All under the guise of "celebration."
But Anson's words made Caron stop and think. Throwing her own party and giving herself an award? That sounded very Hollywood.
A chuckle escaped her lips, and the cloud lifted. Her face brightened. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a lot of strange ideas?"
Anson smiled. "I thought that was a good thing in Hollywood."
Caron caught the sarcasm in his voice. "A good thing, of course. Trust , you wouldn't want to have a conversation with Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise."
Anson blinked. "Um, is that okay? I an, they speak English, right?"
"Ha!" Caron laughed. "They're fine. It's just that everything they say is about themselves. God, if they didn't talk about themselves, they wouldn't know how to speak. Honestly, I'm not interested in their bodies, and I'm even less interested in their souls."
This "pretty face" definitely had a fascinating mind.
"Oh, right," Caron's eyes lit up. "I have a friend I think you should et. Charlie, Charlie Kaufman."
Anson: Wait, what...?
"Of course," Anson's smile widened.
Caron turned and quickly spotted a dejected-looking Charlie in the crowd, eagerly waving her hand to greet him.
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